


Letters from the Fortress

by MaraudingManaged



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Apologies, Draco Malfoy in Azkaban, F/M, Gen, I know it isn't canon but hey-ho, Letters, mentions abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-14 01:55:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16030580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaraudingManaged/pseuds/MaraudingManaged
Summary: Draco Malfoy is sentenced to a year in Azkaban following the end of the war. Though the dementors are gone and his father is also locked away, he struggles with a world he no longer recognises and with missing his mother - the only person he knows is still there to fight his corner. His mind-healer comes up with a novel idea for him to deal with the consequences of his actions prior to his release.A story of seeking forgiveness, told in letters.*Sporadic updates, NOT abandoned*





	1. July, 1998

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all! A little idea of mine that has been in my head for some time and I've been writing up for a little while. I hope that you enjoy this slightly different take on a story and my exploration of Draco Malfoy. 
> 
> Ideas taken from working with young people in care, who are often young offenders. They are assigned a therapist who they will usually see on a weekly basis to deal with their actions and past traumas, so that when they leave care they are hopefully in a better position to live, love, and learn to enjoy their life despite all they've been through.
> 
> All errors my own in this fic, and I sincerely hope you enjoy it.

 

 

Dearest Mother,

I know that this isn’t the outcome we all hoped for, but under the circumstances it is probably the best one. I wasn’t able to say much when I was taken away, but I hope that you are now feeling more composed knowing that there are no longer dementors here, and that we are guarded solely by Aurors and Hit-wizards as time permits.  
     As you are now doubtless aware, I have been permitted no visitation as I am only here for a ‘short’ duration. However, in the Ministry’s infinite _leniency_ I have been permitted to write a letter a month, as long as I wish, and may receive as many in return as are sent to me. Both you and I know that I will be able to count that number on one hand, I think.  
     One thing I do have, however, is some sort of mind-healer. All the young followers of the Dark Lord who are ensconced here are required to see him every week as part of our ‘rehabilitation’. Most of it is a load of utter tosh, but he has suggested that as well as writing to you, I write to those I have… inconvenienced with my actions over the course of my, admittedly, young life. He believes that it may help us to find some modicum of… understanding and appreciation for how our actions have affected others and perhaps find some closure. Maybe even forgiveness, if such a thing can exist.

     I find myself curiously _not_ thoroughly loathing the idea.

I had so many fantasies about what serving the Dark Lord would bring me. I never truly realised what the truth of it would be until it was too late. Then, when _too late_ finally came, all I cared about was keeping you safe and I was willing to do absolutely anything to ensure that safety. I will be forever branded with that promise of ‘anything’.

     I am not ashamed of so much of what I did, because it was for you.

I am yet to decide how lowly that marks me. How can people forgive me, if I cannot feel shame for my actions? Not enough of it, at least. Not enough that I feel pity that I am here, in this stone fortress. It is right; it is what I deserve, at the very least.  
     I will enclose my letters in with my correspondence to you. They will be the last sheet, and I would ask that you not read them. Instead, simply forward them to their intended recipients. I assure you, none of their contents will contain any information that you have not already been made well aware of.

I look forward to hearing from you,

  
Your loving son

~~_Sanctimonia Vincet Semper_ ~~

 

* * *

 

 

Theo,

I get to write a letter a month, and you’re my first pick.  
     Consider yourself lucky, and sit yourself down. You’re in for quite a time with this one, considering that the last time we spoke your father had just been killed and you, as I recall, shouted “Good fucking riddance” down at his body before high-tailing it out of Hogwarts as fast as your body could physically carry you. And of course, I’m now in Azkaban, which you inevitably predicted time and time again and I obviously didn’t listen. That’s the crux of the matter, isn’t it? Me not listening.  
       
Perhaps I should have listened to you in first year when you told me that my attitude was going to land me in more trouble than I would know what to do with. I didn’t.  
     Perhaps I should have listened to you in second year when you told me _again_ that my attitude was beneath me and antagonising people for the sake of it was going to get me into hot water. Instead, I found more people to bother, and more interesting ways to do it, simply because I thought I had the right to.  
     Perhaps I should have listened to you in third year when you cried tears of joy after Granger smacked me silly for my attitude and for antagonising people for the sake of it. Instead I wore it like a badge of honour and used it as a reason to bully her more.  
     Perhaps I should have listened to you when you told me in fourth year that your father’s mark was getting darker again, and so was my father’s, and that the Dark Lord wasn’t the saviour that everyone was making him out to be - and that he had got your mother killed.  
     Perhaps I should have listened to you in fifth year when you told me, _again_ , that constantly being on Potter’s arse about petty nonsense and acting like an entitled shit only served to draw attention to me that I didn’t need. Instead, I proceeded to do the exact opposite because it seemed like the only way to win my father’s notice, and the notice of the Dark Lord. Well, it did that, old chap, didn’t it?  
     Perhaps I should have listened to you in sixth year when you told me that I was killing myself, and that you were worried about me. I was so wrapped up in my cause, protecting my mother, trying to recover whatever pitiful ‘place’ my father had in the Dark Lord’s esteem, that I didn’t even see what was right in front of me.  
     Perhaps I should have seen that in seventh year you wore bruises like a bracelet, scars like a shirt. I saw them and never commented, because I was too involved in my own histrionics and fear because Potter, Granger and Weasley managed to escape the fucking Manor.  
     Perhaps I should have realised you were trying to be a far better friend to me than I had ever been to you. Perhaps I should have realised you were one of my _only_ friends.

     I told my mother in my letter to her that I had few regrets, few things I felt ashamed of. As I write this, I now wonder if that is true.  

I am truly sorry, Theo. Wherever you are, may your life be far better than the one you have lived so far.

  
-D.M


	2. August, 1998

 

~~Lovegood~~ Luna

I imagine you’re as surprised at receiving this letter as I am by writing it.   
    Or maybe not, your mind always has worked in stranger ways than everyone else's - and I don’t mean that as an insult. Part of me wouldn’t be shocked if you already knew that this was coming and are sat by the window waiting patiently for the owl to land.

    I digress.

I am not permitted visitors due to my ‘short’ sentence, but I can write letters. Once per month am I allowed to send an outbound letter from Azkaban to whomever I wish. I also see a mind-healer, as all young Death Eaters do here. Part of the ‘rehabilitation’ scheme the new Minister felt appropriate, rather than simply locking us away and throwing the key into the North Sea for good measure. He suggested, in his eternal wisdom, that it may be beneficial for us to write letters of apology, communication, reparation, to those we have wronged in our pursuits with the Dark Lord; for some reason beyond my comprehension I’ve decided to do it. You are under no obligation to read this, or respond, though I would appreciate it if you did the former.

    I remember the day that you were dragged to our Manor and thrown into the cellars. I didn’t understand - didn’t comprehend the enormity of that action or the wider role it had to play at the time. It seemed ridiculous that such an innocuous girl could have a part to play in the war.

    You always made me think of innocence. To lock away an innocent girl, an innocent _pureblood_ girl, no less, baffled me. That’s why I used to sneak you bits of food whenever I could, a book to read, or sent an elf to talk to you and keep you company when I knew that they wouldn’t be missed. I’m not sure if you knew it was me sending them, but I hoped you might have.  I think that might have been when I first started to doubt my father’s sanity.

That’s the first time I’ve admitted those words to anyone, you know. That I wondered if my father was going insane, by the end.

    He’s here, somewhere, in the prison. I know I’m kept well away from him, and there is a part of me that is glad. There is another part of me that wishes I could just reach out, just once more, and take his hand. Just to remember what touch feels like. Just so _he_ remembers what touch feels like.

    He will die here, you see. I will leave, in eleven months, and try to make some form of life for myself in whatever way I can - in whatever way the world will have me. My father will remain here, surrounded by the crash of waves and the howl of those lost to the madness of the dementors that are long gone but still haunt them, and he will die.

    Did you know I always wanted to play Quidditch professionally? That’ll never happen now. Not a team in any league will take on an ex-Death Eater, no matter how good they might be. Instead, I think I’d just like to be happy. I don't suppose you could give me some pointers, Lovegood? You always seem to be one of the happiest people I’ve ever seen and it boggles my mind. Even when the Carrows… even after then, you seemed to bounce back, full of light and life. I’d love to know how you did it.

I’m sorry for what happened to you, at the hands of my family. You never deserved any of it.

Draco Malfoy

 

* * *

 

 

 

Dear Draco,

I’m not very sure you’ll receive this. Your letter suggested you could send them, so it sort of makes sense you can get them back, doesn’t it?

    I hope you do. It sounds like you need a friend, and I know what it is like to be without them. It can be quite lonely, can’t it?

I’m sorry to hear about your father. I know what it’s like to lose a parent. My mum died when I was little - I don’t remember her very well, of course, but you don’t forget what it feels like. Just because your father wasn’t a good man, doesn’t mean that you can’t hurt over the fact you’re going to lose him. Losing him to Azkaban for the rest of his life is sort of like a death, isn’t it?

The letters seem to be a good idea to me, Draco. Is it okay that I call you Draco? I could call you Malfoy, but that seems a bit standoffish and silly. I always called you Draco in my head when I talked to you in the dungeons at your house.

Your elves make very good conversationalists, you know, and they told me as much as they could. I wish you could have come to see me yourself - it would have been nice to see a familiar face.  Though, I rather liked it when they brought me extra pudding.

I never blamed you, you know, for anything that happened there. There are things I do blame you for, but that will never be one of them. You were a rock that caused ripples in a bigger lake than you realised, I think, and you need to consider how far those ripples spread. That will take you time, and that’s okay. I will always be willing to talk to you.

I will insist though that you never speak of _pureblood_ or _muggle-born_ or _half-blood_ or _blood-traitor_ anything. That’s what got you into this mess, don’t you see? Thinking that people like me, like you, are more special than we are because of the blood that runs through our veins? Did you notice that Hermione Granger, lying on your drawing room floor, bled the same shade of red as you?

I’ve attached the most recent copy of The Quibbler - I hope you find it an entertaining read! There are some rather fantastic creatures I am currently researching with a new contact of mine, Rolf Scamander, and many may yet bear fruit! The crossword is also a good one this month - daddy did it himself. You’ll have to let me know how you do.

As for happiness - I find the world makes me smile, Draco, because there are many wonderful things in it. The night is darkest before the dawn, after all, and so I look for what brings me joy. In magical creatures, in a new morning, in the bright stars, in friends. Until I met Harry Potter I didn’t really have friends, you know. It’s never too late.

In friendship,

Luna

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please let me know what you think, 
> 
> Love MM--x


	3. September, 1998

 

~~Aunt~~ Madam Tonks,

My name is Draco Malfoy, and I am writing to you for a number of reasons.

Usually, I would send a letter through my mother, as I am only able to send one letter a month from my current home; which, as you are likely aware, is a cell in Azkaban Prison. Whilst she has promised me that she doesn’t read these letters, I don’t entirely trust that she doesn’t skim them a little as she must flick her eyes over at least the beginning to find the person to address it to.  
     For obvious reasons I’ve foregone my usual letter to her in favour of writing to you. I hope you will read this letter rather than burning it on sight of the writer, but I do understand if you go no further. I usually have a spiel explaining the purpose of these letters, but I feel that it would be inappropriate, so I hope you will allow some leeway in this instance.  
     First of all, I would like to pass on my condolences upon hearing of the passing of your daughter and son-in-law. I never knew your daughter, for reasons that I suppose are rather apparent considering my place of residence, but Lupin taught me in school. I was fairly young at the time, but he was probably one of the best teachers we’ve ever had for Defence Against the Dark Arts - even if I was a little shit about learning about his _condition_. I got an O that year - one of the few years I ever did - and that was a testament to him.  
     The second reason for writing is more personal, and I’m not sure how to go about it because I am painfully aware that we do not know each other. The circumstances around that are obviously… difficult. Strained.

I’m worried about my mother.

She is incredibly isolated at the Manor, and though I’ve sent her a number of letters, she hasn’t written back to me in the last six weeks and I am growing increasingly concerned. As my contact with the world outside of these walls and bars is obviously limited, this means I have no way to check on her and not a soul who would truly care enough for her to visit - one who isn’t already out of the country or residing somewhere here with me, anyway.   
     I remember, when my father wasn’t around, she would talk about her childhood and her sisters. A time before the first war, when everything was far more innocent. She said that Bella was always a bit mad, but that she looked up to you both. I think if she hadn’t already signed the marriage contract with Father, she might very well have kept in contact with you. As it was, I think Bella and he… manipulated her into thinking a certain way. Or at least appearing to, so that’s the same thing for all intents and purposes, isn’t it? That’s what my mind healer told me today, anyway, when I told him I was thinking about writing this letter to you.  
     I suppose what I’m asking is if… if you can find it within yourself to forgive her of her sins. She is aware that they are many, and from what she said before our trials she regrets her youth and gullibility - especially following the period where ~~the Dark Lord~~ Voldemort was living in our home. That time really, really damaged her… more than anyone on the winning side, the golden side, really cares to acknowledge. She was never a Death Eater, and it was never really her choice. She just did what she was told, like all good little Pureblood girls are taught to do.  I remember one time when Mother’d had one too many gins during that time, just before Granger, Potter and Weasley were captured; she said that there was a lot in me that reminded her of you, and that she hoped those parts were better than hers ever could be. I’m not sure, but I think she hoped that that side of me would beat out the one cultivated by Father. She didn’t say the next day, and in my own fear I chose not to ask. Just in case _he_ got into my head and saw it.

My mind healer just read over this letter, and said it sounds a little manipulative. I said it’s just how Slytherins communicate - I don’t suppose anyone who wasn’t a Slytherin really understands the subtleties and arts of conversation that were developed in our little corner of Hogwarts. I think, at the end, she tried to do what she could to make sure Potter could win. She never specifically told me what, and I wasn’t permitted to enter her trial, but I know she put herself at significant risk to make sure he had at least an opportunity to try and take the bloke down. Which he did, in the end - though I suppose mother’s part was only a very, very small one in the grand scheme of things.  
     If you could visit her, or even just write to her, it might be enough of a spell to her system that she needs to get herself out of her isolation. Merlin, if you don’t want to, then just ask Potter. I know he stood for her at her trial, for whatever it was worth. Maybe he can try and… do what I can’t. Be there for her.

My mother isn’t a bad woman. Misguided, but dedicated to her family. With my father out of the way, and Aunt Bella six feet under, there is precious little of that left. I hope this letter isn’t in vain.

Your nephew, in good faith,

 

Draco Malfoy

 

 

* * *

  


Draco,

Harry told me that you wrote to your Aunt this time. I see him from time to time, you know - he’s been helping with the rebuilding at Hogwarts after the battle. He’s going to be an Auror, I think, along with Ron - fitting, I suppose. I can’t help but wonder, though, if fighting more dark wizards after everything he’s been through is a bad idea. Maybe it’s all he knows what to do.

Anyway, Harry says that your Aunt hasn’t decided if she’ll visit herself, and I don’t know if she’s sent you a letter yet. She’s a thoughtful woman, though, and I know she’s taking care of Remus and Tonks’ baby. Did you know Professor Lupin’s wife had a baby? It is so very, very sad for poor Edward - Teddy, as they all call him. He’s the sweetest little thing, and he’s already a metamorphmagus like his mother. It reminds me of Harry, a little. Fighting for the Order, only to be killed in battle, leaving behind an orphan.  
     I think he’s only an orphan in title, though. He’s got his godfather, his grandmother, and just about every Weasley there is doting on him. I think Bill, Ron’s oldest brother, has gone into hiding from his mother - Mrs. Weasley seems to have caught a case of nargle-induced baby fever. He married Fleur Delacour, the Triwizard champion from Beauxbaton; did you know? He was attacked by Greyback in your 6th year, at the end. Did you know he was going to come? I hope that you didn’t, Draco. You never seemed to like him all that much; but then, I think everyone was scared of him, weren’t they?

Oh, I’ve got myself all distracted - your Aunt! She hasn’t decided if she’ll visit herself, and has probably started a thousand letters by now trying to work out what to say, but I thought you might like to know this. Harry goes to visit her every now and again, to talk to her and keep her company already. I’m surprised she hasn’t told you - they have tea in her library and talk about the war. He goes under the pretense of keeping up with Auror visitations to make sure that she is abiding by the rules of her house arrest, but he actually quite likes her. He seems to come back from her house in a less dark mood than he goes, anyway. He’s said he’ll visit more often, if he can, so you know that at least she has company. I will let you know how it goes, if you like? I’m not sure when you’ll be writing to Harry - assuming you are, I suppose. I believe you will. 

Here’s this month’s Quibbler! Let me know again how you find it. Daddy made the puzzles harder, just for you! He says ‘hello’ and hopes you enjoy it.

Your friend,   


Luna.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Please let me know what you think, and enjoy.


End file.
